Appleby
by Rrit
Summary: Scorpius has a ratty old blue tee shirt. It was once Rose's, who got it from Tomas. Lucy, who had regifted it to Tomas, was given it by Domonique. Dominique stole it from Louis. Louis received it from Fred who got it from... Well... Somewhere.


**A/N: well, this is it. The end of the Second Quidditch Fanfiction Leauge Season has come and I can't be any more proud to have been a part of it. Congratulations to the Falmouth Falcons and my fellow arrows for making it this far. Whew, final round!**

**Chaser 2 for the Appleby Arrows, (word) current, (word) praise, (poem) Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll**

**"Appleby" like many of my previous stories is dedicated to you (Arrows), to all the scorers, to Ash, and to Remi. The segments get progressively shorter. That's not intentional.**

**WARNING for younger readers: Will contain swearing. The f-Bomb has been dropped. If that will bother you here is you advance notice. You can easily ignore them when reading as they don't appear frequently. As this is rated 'T' for those thirteen and over, I would assume that you are familiar with every curse (two in total) mentioned.**

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IX

He took his vorpal sword in hand;

Long time the manxome foe he sought—

IIX

_for Kitty the Keeper_

Scorpius wasn't completely sure where he got the shirt from. It was faded and blue and _old_. Vary recently, Scorpius had been thrown into something of a doozy. Albus called it a 'culture shock' and Rose called him snobby. Of course, she then proceeded to tug down on his collar to impound his lips with her own. The word choice didn't seem to matter much after that.

The shirt's bold lettering was faded and its material worn. It wasn't silk or angora but it was comfortable all the same.

Scorpius had recently been reliably told that he had to 'assimilate' and 'get with the fucking program' because, quite bluntly, he could not afford not to. With his unacessable inheredence and his father cutting him off two months ago, Scorpius was on his own. He was alone in a non-magical metropolis with only one small source of income.

Not to exaggerate, but the small source of income was puny.

Scorpius had hit a wall after seventh year. He had no direction and no sense of purpose so he did what every other seventeen year old boy with optemistic dilusions of life would do.

He took a gap year. Traveled the world. Somehow acquired an old blue tee shirt and a new red cap. Then he spiraled back from Montreal to New York City in America and stayed.

Scorpius was the impulsive one of his two other friends, Rose and Albus. They had visited him a week ago with some magical nick-nacks and homemade food. They didn't, however, stay. Again, Scorpius was the impulsive one. Rose had her work and Albus had his internship, they weren't going to drop it all because he felt lonely.

New York City was not a non-magical city, not by a long shot, so non-magical metropolis wouldn't technically apply. The surface of NYC though, in Scorpius' defense, was very muggle. The sub-level, however, was very not.

Some said it was the 'most magical city' in America but Scorpius hadn't been in the least bit intreased to go out of his apartment and explore before.

Though 'before' was before Rose and Albus' visit. Scorpius thought that they would explore the new world together, but no. Alas, they both had commitments in Britian that they had been working their whole school careers for. When Scorpius brought up the idea they both turned him down with a fat undeniable no.

The remainder of their stay was two parts awkward, one part chasting, and three parts nostalgic.

So Scorpius shook the old Hogwartian tales out of his head, shrugged a jacket ontop of the blue shirt, and pulled the red cap over his head.

Usually, Scorpius cared more for his apperence but he was in a new city in a weird country. So he kept the blue shirt that clashed with his shoes and grabbed his wand.

He was utterly alone and utterly resolved to change that lonely fact.

With one last look inside his appartment, he flicked off the lights, and tipped his cap to the darkness. He turned away, closing the door to search for the semblance of a friend in the late night bustle.

VII

_for Lizzie the Captain_

Rose Weasley was somewhat of an over achiever.

She knew that, her brother knew that, her mother took pride in that, and her father basked in it.

Rose was also somewhat of a 'good girl'.

She knew that, her brother knew that, her mother took pride in that, and her father loved that.

She also kept that ideal in mind when she carefully opened the door of the makeshift guest room that she and Albus shared. She fiddled with the edge of her boxy blue shirt. Tiptoeing across the tile floor, she checked her hair in one of Scorpius' many mirrors, before she entered the room across the hall.

For some background, Rose had an incredibly stupid, endearingly cute boyfriend, who with all the might of his idiotic nature, made the decision to trapeze around the globe in search of his 'purpose'.

From the look of things. Rose assumed that Scorpius still hadn't found that 'purpose'.

Scorpius had, however, found and bought a small appartment in America. It was the hallway of that appartment that Rose crossed before she turned the cool metal door nob to Scorpius' room.

First one gray eye opened, wide awake, with the other following soon after, and suddenly the whole room jumped to life. It was what Rose secretly dubbed the 'Scorpius Effect'.

Scorpius' neck followed his eyes, turning toward her. His body shifted and turned on its side, shuffling back a bit to make room for her. "Hey." He whispered and after a couple seconds, when the urge became to much, Scorpius gave her an over exaggerated wink.

Rose looked up at the ceeling fan, then back at at her boyfriend, and then back at the ceeling again. The cycle continued until Rose rolled her eyes and pulled her blue shirt over her head stepping into Scorpius' bed.

Pulling the covers up to her chin, she turned her body to look at him. He was already got looking at her with a certain look in his eye. They were separated, a foot and a half apart. To Rose, they were too far away.

The look in his eyes was a sort of reserved affection. Scorpius wasn't comming back to England and he knew that she wasn't going to stay with him. She had seen him do it before; he was distancing himself and Rose needed to do the same.

"I love you." She said.

Rose wanted a lot of things in life. She wanted happiness and love. She wanted cookies and tea. She wanted knowledge and a career in the Spell, Curse, and Hex Creation devision at the Ministry.

Rose also wanted Scorpius Malfoy but she wasn't blind to the prospect that she couldn't have it all. Basic law of scarcity, you can't have everything.

There was nothing light about saying I love you. Rose heard it thrown around during Hogwarts but she was never comfortable with saying it. Honestly, she still wasn't. Rose wanted Scorpius but she couldn't keep him. They were both forgetful and love - despite the books that believed so - was not everything.

So Rose put on her game face because they both needed to hear it. "I love you Scorpius Malfoy." She repeated and forced herself to look at and into his glaze.

Scorpius was frozen, shocked and maybe even a little happy, but Rose was just speculating. One think to know about Rose Weasley was that she only felt in facts.

"I'm not staying here." She said. "I've got my life back across the pond. The bars and clubs are fun but they're not what's real for me. New York is a fantasy where no one knows me and they're no expectations. It's real for you perhaps, and that's great, but not for me."

She snuggled closer to him for a moment, drawing in his warmth before she kissed his cheek and wiggled out of the bed.

Scorpius' smile was gone and in her wake was a cold feeling that begun spreading through his body. "I love you." Went whispered alone and quiet in the empty room. Scorpius' only witness was a blue shirt that Rose had discarded and forgotten on his floor.

VI

_ For Angel the Seeker_

Tomas Wood was the Quidditch Captain in 2026. He had his hair styled perfectly to fit with the current peramiters of fashion and his hansome face, to accompany his amazing hair.

His amazing hair, unfortunately, was soggy from the perpetual bullets of rain that pelted the Gryffindor practice session.

Visibility was low and aim was off.

That was the reason that Tomas filled out on three forms the next day. First, he signed his name at the end of Rose Weasley's injury form and listed the reason. Then he repeted the process for Griffin, the keeper who lost his grip and crashed into the chaser.

Rose Weasley had fallen from the sky and fractured her arm and that would have been fined Griffin hadn't messed up further and used Weasley's head as a landing pad. Tomas, with all the eloquence that he could sum up, first swore and thought of how exactly they were going to play the last game of the season against Hufflepuff with two players down.

It was admittedly not even Tomas' second imedeate thought to actually wonder how badly his players had been hurt.

Pressing the shirt that he had received from Lucy Weasley for Christmas to Rose's head, he and Albus Potter carried both players up to the Hospital Wing.

Though the baby blue shirt had been one of Tomas' favorites, he relinquished it in all it's blood soaked glory to Rose and her battered skull.

Despite the hallow feeling in Tomas' stomach after he left the Hospital Wing without it, perhaps it was for the best that Tomas left the shirt because he ran into Lucy only moments after exiting the Hospital Wing.

Long story short, Lucy and Tomas weren't 'just friends' after that day.

V

_for Ela the Chaser_

Grabbing her best friend by the elbow, Lucy pulled Tomas over to the Christmas Tree. Fifteen years old, she placed a badly wrapped present in his hands.

"Open it." She ordered and he did.

Tomas tore off the wrapping paper with the same grace that Lucy had wrapped it in.

."No." Tomas Wood looked at her with large eyes.

"Yes." Lucy relied, happy with his reaction.

"No." He muttered, eyes roaming over the fabric.

"Yes." She said again and Tomas let out a blood curling shriek.

In his hands was a blue shirt, signed sixteen times. The next thing he knew he was hugging Lucy as hard as he could.

IV

_for Lynn the Chaser_

"Shite." Dominique Weasley hissed.

Her eyes were glued to a blue shirt. "What's that?" Lucy asked.

"Just something I borrowed from Louis. I thought I lost it." Dominique replied and Lucy raised her eyebrow.

"So give it back." She said.

"I can't."

Dominique turned to Lucy who shrugged her sholders.

Lucy Weasley was a politician in the making with her amicable voice and law abiding savy. "You should."

"Louis is just getting over loosing them. I can't show him these now."

"Is that the-"

"yep."

"Do you need to get rid of it?"

"yep."

"No problem," Lucy gave an excited smile. "I'll take it."

III

_for Pheobe the Beater_

Louis Weasley had been told he was something of a Quidditch Fanatic.

II

Claudia

A blue Appleby Arrows shirt was passed along a row of players. The shirt was crisp and new. Boldface font stood out proudly from the blue fabric. On the last day of the Fall 2014-2015 season, the shirt had made its way from hand to hand, pen to quill.

Then it was signed.

The blue shirt was signed by all eight players and the crew. It was then given to the player of the game.

I

So rested he by the Tumtum tree

And stood awhile in thought.

Scorpius went out for a friend. Rose chose herself. Tomas has paperwork. Lucy has a present. Dominique is a thief. And Louis is still wondering how he fit into the equation.

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**A/N: There were plenty of problems while trying to upload this so reviews would be much appreciated.**


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